


Stations of Love

by Star55



Category: Glee
Genre: AU, Fluff, M/M, artist!blaine, fashion!kurt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-21
Updated: 2013-08-21
Packaged: 2017-12-24 05:19:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/935843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Star55/pseuds/Star55
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blaine meets the love of his life on a train back to Ohio.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stations of Love

**Author's Note:**

> **A/N:** For the [Klaine Reverse Bang.](http://kblreversebang.tumblr.com) My artist is the wonderful [BlueBells](http://bluebells-ringing.tumblr.com/) and I had the honour of being able to write fic for this fantastic piece of artwork. As always, thanks to [Slayerkitty](http://slayerkitty.tumblr.com) for the beta read and being my everything. ♥  
>  **Disclaimer:** Not mine. I just have a vivid and healthy imagination.
> 
>  
> 
> [](http://i43.tinypic.com/30lnzps.jpg)  
> 

There were perks to being an old man, Blaine often thought. 

He could sit in his comfy chair and if he happened to fall asleep, then it wasn’t a big deal, he was old and he could get away with it. Kurt would often come in, tut, and take Blaine’s glasses from his face, setting them on the coffee table until he woke up.

He could also get away with almost anything, within reason, and Kurt or their kids would just roll their eyes affectionately and let him be. It was a win-win situation in Blaine’s mind.

He’d had a great life and this was his time to relax, do things slowly and spend the rest of his days with the love of his life by his side.

Blaine and Kurt’s grandchildren loved Blaine’s sleeping patterns. Sometimes he would wake up and just keep his eyes closed so he could hear them giggling to each other as they gently prodded him to see if he was awake. Occasionally, he’d scare them by making a ‘rar’ noise or taking out his false teeth and make a face in their direction. 

It was one of the perks of being a grandfather.

Kurt was still quite a sprightly old man, Blaine had noticed. He seemed to have endless energy when it came to their grandchildren but Blaine was the only one that knew differently. He was the one who got to see Kurt fall fast asleep at eight o’clock at night and not wake again until the sun started to rise the next day.

Even after all of these years together, Blaine’s stomach still swooped pleasantly at the thought of waking up next to his husband. 

Kurt still had that look in his eye, after all of these years, that showed Blaine how in awe he was that they were still together, still so in love. Blaine knew his own gaze mirrored Kurt’s and the love he felt in his heart for Kurt couldn’t begin to be described.

Though they were old men, their love was still strong.

That made any old body ailments worth it, somehow, in Blaine’s mind.

“Grandpa… Grandpa, wake up.”

Blaine blinked his eyes open, the gap toothed smile of his six year old granddaughter, Natalie, flooded Blaine’s vision. She was sitting on his knee, patting his cheek with her little hand. Her hair was in pigtails and Blaine could have sworn her hair wasn’t like that when she had arrived that morning with her parents. He figured that Kurt had taken a brush to Natalie’s hair and had tamed the usual wild mess.

“I’m awake, sweetheart,” Blaine said, shifting as best as he could with his granddaughter on his lap.

“Why are you sleeping, Grandpa?” she asked, looking at him with wide, innocent eyes.

Blaine stifled a yawn. “Grandpa is a little tired today.”

“Oh,” Natalie said. “I don’t like naps. I’m too big for them.”

“That you are,” Blaine agreed with a nod, adjusting his glasses on his face so he could see Natalie properly.

“Grandad said you’d tell me a story after my bath,” she said. “It’s bath time now; can I have my story yet?”

Blaine smiled. “How about we bathe you first, _then_ we’ll have the story, little duck.”

“Okay,” Natalie replied, sliding off Blaine’s lap.

Blaine got up after her and stretched his aching back a little. There were some downsides to being old, but he didn’t mind them considering how well his body still treated him. A little ache in his back didn’t bother him when he could still run around after his grandchildren, and run around after Kurt, who was, somehow, still able to do all the things he used to do when they were younger. Blaine admired that about his husband. 

Kurt stepped into the living room a moment later, a dish towel in his hands as he dried them off. “I see Natalie woke you.”

Blaine smiled. “She did,” he said. “I’m about to give her a bath and a bedtime story.”

“I’ll be up when I’ve finished the dishes.”

“Alright,” Blaine replied with a nod, heading up the stairs to the bathroom. 

Natalie was already in there, putting all sorts of toys into the empty bath tub, clearly eager to get started. Blaine smiled and kissed the top of her head before he leaned over to put the plug into the hole. He then turned on the hot tap first and squirted some of Natalie’s favourite bubble bath into the tub, watching it immediately foam up. Natalie squealed with delight and clapped her hands together. Blaine turned the cold tap on as well and watched as more and more bubbles formed.

“Alright, missy,” Blaine said. “Let’s get you out of these dirty clothes and into the bath.”

“Okay, Grandpa,” Natalie said, her little hands going to the hem of her t-shirt, tugging it up as best as she could. “I’m stuck!” she exclaimed a moment later.

“Hold still, sweetheart,” Blaine said as he helped her out of her t-shirt. He put it on top of the closed toilet lid and helped her out of her grass stained jeans next. Blaine helped her into the bath tub and she squealed with delight at the warm water and the bubbles.

Blaine switched off the taps and swished the water around with his hand for a moment before fishing out one of her toy ducks and giving it an experimental squeak. Natalie’s head whipped around to watch him and he passed her the duck. She immediately took it and squeezed it herself so it squeaked again. She beamed up at him and did it a few more times in succession.

Blaine laughed at her excitement and picked up the wash cloth sitting on the ledge to start washing her.

“What song should we sing?” he asked her as he began to wash her back.

“Old Macdonald!” Natalie exclaimed.

“Excellent choice,” Blaine replied. He started the song off and Natalie immediately joined in, singing to the best of her ability. 

Blaine made sure to accentuate each and every one of the noises the animals made every time they came to a new one in the song, causing Natalie to giggle excitedly at every single one. 

Blaine took the wash cloth and was scrubbing between Natalie’s toes when he had an idea. He scooped up a handful of the bubbles and spread them across his chin. 

“How does Grandpa look?” he asked her. 

Natalie burst into peals of laughter, her little nose scrunching up at the sight of him. “You look funny!” she said.

“Really?” Blaine asked. “I thought I looked rather handsome.”

Natalie shook her head, giggling some more. “No, Grandpa!” she said. “Do me! I want a beard!”

Blaine happily scooped up some bubbles and carefully arranged them on Natalie’s face so that she had a bubble beard as well. “Perfect!” he said. 

“You too, Grandpa,” she urged. Blaine scooped up some more bubbles and applied them to his chin and cheeks, trying not to laugh too much in the process. 

“Alright, Grandad’s here,” Kurt said as he entered the bathroom. 

“Grandad!” Natalie exclaimed happily, like she hadn’t seen him in weeks.

“What on earth?” Kurt wondered as he looked between them both, his lips twitching in the way that Blaine knew he was trying not to laugh too much. “What happened to my beautiful granddaughter and husband? Who are these bubble creatures I see before me?”

“It’s us, Grandad!” Natalie said. “We’re not bubble creatures!”

Natalie wiped bubbles off her face and gave Kurt a beaming smile. Blaine did the same, looking up at his husband with a smile. Kurt put a hand to his chest and exhaled in relief.

“Oh, thank goodness,” he started, “I thought I had lost my granddaughter to the bubble creatures forever!”

Natalie giggled and shook her head. “Nope! Me and Grandpa were just playing.”

Kurt smiled and eased himself down to kneel next to the bath tub. “I’m glad,” he replied sincerely. “Now, are you all washed so you can get into your pyjamas and into bed?”

Natalie shook her head. “Not yet, Grandad,” she said. “We haven’t played enough yet.”

“Oh, of course,” Kurt replied, shooting Blaine a wink. “Five more minutes then, sweetheart. Then it’s bed time, okay?”

“Okay,” Natalie replied, immediately picking up a toy to play with.

Blaine stood and gave Kurt his hand to help him up too. Kurt gave him a soft smile, one that still made Blaine’s stomach swoop pleasantly, before leaving the bathroom.

Blaine finished playing with Natalie and helped her out of the bath before pulling the plug, the water making a terrible slurping sound as it went down the drain. Natalie giggled at the noise. 

Blaine wrapped a fluffy, light pink towel around her little body and cuddled her close. She leaned her head on his shoulder and yawned. 

“You smell nice, Grandpa,” Natalie said as Blaine rubbed the towel down her back. He smiled and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“Thank you,” he said. “Grandad bought me this cologne. He likes it too.”

Natalie smiled and lifted her arms as Blaine’s prompting so he could dry her off properly. He bundled her up in the towel and carried her to her bedroom. It wasn’t really her bedroom but she was the youngest grandchild they had, currently, and she liked to pretend it was hers. Blaine and Kurt always went along with it, figuring it wouldn’t hurt her to just agree.

Kurt was in the room, waiting, Natalie’s pyjamas laid out on the end of the bed for her. 

“Here we go, sweetheart,” Blaine said, setting Natalie down. He reached for the pyjama bottoms to help her into them while Kurt returned the towel back to the bathroom. 

“Can I have my story now?” Natalie asked once Blaine had finished buttoning up the top. 

Kurt re-entered the room with a brush in his hand and he smiled at them both. “Sure think, pumpkin,” he replied. “What story would you like tonight?” 

Natalie pursed her lips. “Mommy said to ask you how you two got together. She said it was a rom… romantatic story.”

“Romantic,” Kurt corrected softly, a fond smile on his face.

“Yeah, that!” Natalie said. 

“Alright,” Kurt replied. “How about you come and sit on my knee so I can do your hair and Grandpa will start the story, okay?”

Natalie nodded and scrambled to get up onto Kurt’s lap. Blaine steadied her and turned down her bed, ready for her to slip into it. He sat down in the rocking chair they had had since their own children were babies and glanced at Kurt, remembering exactly how they met.

~*~*~*~

There was so much life at a train station.

From the people hugging each other in greeting or in good bye, to the people travelling on their own, whether it was to get away or to start anew, the sheer amount of life could easily be seen. It was like watching people at an airport to Blaine. People were always so relieved to see their loved ones come back, or would hang around until the last possible second for their loved ones to go through the security gates for their flight. There was so much emotion and for an artist like Blaine, it was one of the best places to capture such life.

He was about to go back home to Ohio to spend two weeks with his parents over the Christmas break, as he hadn’t seen them in a few months. He missed them a lot and didn’t get to see them as often as he wanted, being a struggling college student and all, but he made the effort to visit them at least twice a year. 

New York was definitely _the_ place to be for an artist like Blaine. He attended a good school, had a good group of friends, lived with his two best friends, and had a pretty good life. Sure, there were some things that were lacking. More money was always nice but Blaine had recently landed himself a job with an art gallery that not only hung his stuff, but allowed him to work on his pieces when there was a free moment. 

He gave tours to any visitors that wanted them but mostly, he completed transactions with clients on the sale of some of the pieces. 

The owner, Lisa, had seen some of his pieces and had been utterly enthralled with them. She had even bought a few of Blaine’s pieces to hang permanent around the gallery, ‘showing off his talent’ as Lisa liked to say. She was always looking for fresh talent and Blaine had been more than grateful when she had offered him a position at the gallery. He knew enough about art to be able to answer any questions thrown his way by potential buyers and he attracted all sorts of clientele into gallery with his handsome face and dapper personality. 

It was a great stepping stone as an artist, for Blaine to work in such an environment. It gave him exposure he never would have received otherwise and it enabled him to get as much feedback as possible on his pieces from other artists.

Blaine always carried a sketchbook and pencils on him, wherever he went. An artist found inspiration in the strangest of places, after all. 

Blaine sat on a hard plastic chair at the train station terminal, sketchbook in hand, as he waited for his train to arrive so he could get Ohio.

Blaine had decided to take the train to Ohio as he knew his parents wanted him to pick up some more of his belongings from their house to take back with him. It was cheaper than flying as well, and Blaine needed to save every penny he had for life in New York. It would take longer than flying, but he didn’t mind. He didn’t have to drive by himself, which he hated, and he could work on some sketches while travelling.

It wasn’t the most ideal way to travel but it got him to his destination, which was what mattered. 

One of his room mates, Tina, said she would pick him up from the train station when he got back from Ohio so she could help him back to their apartment with his luggage, which he was beyond grateful for. Tina had a car, which was sometimes a good thing in New York but most of the time, they all took public transport. In this case, it worked in Blaine’s favour.

A boarding call came for his train and Blaine looked up, seeing other people milling about, saying good bye to loved ones. He spotted a couple around his age, saying good bye to each other and had the urge to sketch them. He knew he wouldn’t be able to stop right then and there, like he wanted to, and sketch them, because he had his train to catch, but he could hopefully work on the sketch once he had found his seat. 

Blaine slipped his sketchbook into his satchel and slung it over his shoulder. He presented his ticket before making his way inside the train to find his seat. He stopped to wait as a lady with a child got into her seat before carrying on. He spotted his, thankfully, empty seat and sat down. The entire double seat was vacant and Blaine internally did a little dance of joy. As much as he liked people, sometimes he liked his personal space a little more. 

The train steadily filled with people and before Blaine knew it, they were pulling away from the station. They had a few stops to make along the way, so Blaine settled in for a long journey of listening to his travel playlist of pop music, and his sketchbook sitting on his lap.

Blaine immediately took out his favourite lead pencil and started sketching the couple from earlier. They had clung to each other desperately, trading small kisses every few moments. It was nice to witness, even for a moment, a couple that was so in love.

That was something that Blaine hadn’t had much of, sadly. He didn’t mind it as much as his room mates seemed to think. Blaine was a romantic. He wanted to find _that_ guy. The one who would sweep him off his feet and fall hopelessly in love with. 

He wanted that a lot and he was willing to wait for it. He was young, he had plenty of time to find his soul mate.

In the meantime, he would focus on his art and schooling. Both were just as important to him. 

It didn’t mean that Blaine had stopped looking, of course, or had stopped going on dates completely. He was just a little more focused when he went on a date. He had done the casual dating thing and even though he was still only twenty years old, he was sure that he would find his perfect match when it was the right time.

New York had opened up a lot of possibilities for Blaine. He could be himself one hundred percent of the time and no one minded. Being gay in New York was just like being a person in New York – there were plenty of them and no one minded at all.

Blaine loved it.

He had met some wonderful gay people through a LGBT group that he had joined shortly after starting college. He had seen a flyer on one of the many message boards littered throughout the campus and decided to see what the group was like. Tina had gone along with him, like the best friend that she was, and that’s how Blaine had started his volunteer career. 

It was also how he had met Lisa, whose daughter was a lesbian. Lisa had been running one of the events that Blaine had attended and had seen some of Blaine’s work. She had mentioned that she worked at a gallery and the two had hit it off better than Blaine could have ever hoped. 

Occasionally some of Blaine’s art work was auctioned off for fundraising and the funds went back into the group. It was a great situation for Blaine to be in. It was great for both his involvement in the LGBT community as well as having people appreciate his artwork enough to want to buy it. 

Being a volunteer at the group had led Blaine to getting to know other gay males in New York that he didn’t want to have to go to a bar to find. Most of them were nice, younger men like himself, and even though the dates he had been on were always lovely, there was never enough of a spark for Blaine to want to keep dating the guy. He was never lonely though. He made friends easily, had a great job, loved his college and got to do the things he loved most: create art and help people.

Blaine Anderson’s life was pretty perfect.

“Excuse me.”

Blaine blinked as he looked up to see what was easily the most gorgeous guy he had ever set eyes on. 

“Uh,” Blaine started. He was staring but he couldn’t help it. This man in front of him had the face of an angel, Blaine was sure of it. He was overwhelmed with the desire to paint this stranger. To capture the look of mild amusement in his gorgeous eyes, to get down every single swoop of the perfect coiffed brown hair upon his head. 

The man seemed to grow impatient of Blaine’s blatant staring and started to talk again. His voice was even more angelic than his face. Blaine was utterly entranced.

“Do you mind if I sit here?” the stranger asked. “It’s the only empty seat left on the train that I can find. I was sitting next to a lady with a squawking two year old and I just don’t have the patience for that today.”

“Uh…” Blaine repeated.

The male sighed. “Never mind.”

Just as he turned to leave, Blaine found his voice again.

“No, you can stay!” Blaine said in a rush. “Sorry for being rude.”

The man quirked his lips for a fraction of a second in Blaine’s direction before sitting down, placing his Marc Jacobs designer bag on the floor between his legs. 

“Thank you,” the angel said. 

“I’m Blaine.”

“Kurt.”

It was the most beautiful and fitting name Blaine had ever heard. 

Blaine had always been dubious about love at first sight in the past but now, with Kurt sitting right next to him, his arm brushing against Blaine’s as he reached into his bag for something, Blaine thought he just might believe. 

He had never come across someone as attractive as Kurt in his entire life and he had seen a _lot_ of people. No one else came close.

Blaine only realised that he was staring again when Kurt quirked a perfectly shaped eyebrow in his direction. Blaine wanted to draw that, too. He wanted to draw _all_ of Kurt. Every last intricate little detail. Every mark, every freckle, ever patch of flawless skin. He could fill an entire sketchbook of Kurt and probably still not be satisfied.

“Do I have something on my face?” Kurt asked.

“What? No! Oh, sorry. Uh. No.” Blaine replied in a rush, stumbling over his words. He flushed and turned his gaze back to his sketchbook that was still opened to the page of the couple from earlier. 

“Nice drawing,” Kurt commented and Blaine looked up again to see Kurt looking at his sketchbook as well.

“Thank you,” Blaine replied. 

“Have a thing for lesbian couples?” Kurt asked.

Blaine cocked his head to the side and then realised that the couple he was drawing was, in fact, a lesbian couple. He shook his head, a small smile on his lips. “No,” he replied. “Just a thing for art.”

“Ahh,” Kurt replied. “So not just a creepy weirdo then?”

Blaine chuckled. “Definitely not.”

Kurt seemed satisfied with his answer and reached into his bag, pulling out headphones and an iPod. Blaine took the hint and turned back to his sketchbook to finish off the drawing. 

Except every time he put the pencil to the page, all he could think about was the gorgeous man sitting next to him. He felt a little creepy feeling so entranced by Kurt so quickly but his sheer beauty made Blaine just want to stop everything and draw him until he could draw no more. 

Blaine huffed out a frustrated breath and pulled out his own headphones and iPod from his back pack, setting it to shuffle before pressing play. He turned the page, giving up on the drawing of the lesbian couple for now, intent on drawing something that he would be able to focus on instead.

He ended up drawing the train they were on, his sketchbook sitting horizontally in his lap, one leg tucked up so he could rest the book upright. 

Blaine tended to lose himself when he was drawing. It was both a good and bad trait to have. It was good because he could get in the zone, and just draw, or paint, for hours and hours until he was satisfied that his drawings or paintings were perfect. It was also bad because he tended to forget about everything else around him until he was done. 

When he wanted to do something big, and really needed to focus, Blaine would make sure that he had the entire day off, that there was nothing pressing in the world that needed his attention.

He had forgotten meals before, when being focused on his art. He barely remembered to keep drinking from his water bottle when working, and it was only because Tina had ingrained that habit into him from when they first became friends. She had sat and watched him work for three hours solid one day and was a little concerned that he wasn’t keeping hydrated enough. So she told him that he needed to keep water on him, at the very least, and to be sure to eat something when he was done. It was an easy habit to get into, and it kept Blaine fresh and able to concentrate for longer.

The train gave a bit of a bump and Blaine cursed under his breath when his pencil slid off the page. It was a downside to drawing while travelling but at least it was an easy fix. He took his eraser from his small pencil case and carefully erased where his pencil had slid off the page. He blew across the page to clear it from the eraser residue and started sketching once again. He wanted to capture every detail that he could of the train that brought him and Kurt together. It seemed a little pathetic in his head but it stopped him from drawing Kurt right in front of the man. That probably would have scared Kurt more than Blaine would have liked.

“You’re really talented.”

Blaine glanced over at Kurt again and gave him a small smile as he pulled one of his head phone earplugs out of his ear. “Thank you,” he replied. 

“Do you draw a lot?” Kurt asked and Blaine felt his heart speed up, hoping that this was Kurt initiating conversation. He wasn’t going to get _too_ excited just yet, Kurt could just be bored and craving interaction with someone else. 

Blaine nodded. “Yeah,” he started. “I do. I tend to draw for a living. Well, that and painting.”

Blaine followed Kurt’s gaze back to the sketchbook. “What other things do you draw that aren’t lesbian couples and trains?”

“Uh, anything, really,” Blaine replied. He flipped his sketchbook over and opened it from the start. “Nature, people, buildings, anything that captures my eye with its beauty.” He glanced up at Kurt as he said ‘beauty’ and immediately bit his bottom lip, worrying it with his teeth for a few moments before releasing it.

“May I?” Kurt asked and Blaine nodded, handing over the sketchbook. Usually he wouldn’t let just anyone look at his book but Kurt wasn’t just _anyone_ , not if the way his stomach swooped pleasantly was any indicator. “These are all amazing.”

“Thank you,” Blaine repeated. “I’ve been drawing since I was a kid. I am an art major, too. It’s kind of my life’s passion.”

Kurt smiled. “It’s a good passion to have,” he replied. “At least you have a passion. The same can’t be said for a lot of other people in the world.”

“I know. I’m really lucky I found mine so young,” Blaine agreed, accepting the book back from Kurt. He closed it and ran his hand over the thick, black cover, letting his fingers glide over the little bumps on it from so much use. 

“You are,” Kurt replied with a strange look that crossed his face before Blaine could decipher it. Kurt turned to Blaine a little more and gave him a small smile. He struck up a conversation with Blaine, asking about Blaine’s life and Blaine, in turn, asked about Kurt’s. 

The more he learned about Kurt, the more he realised he wanted to know _every_ little detail that he could. Kurt was an amazing person, from what Blaine could gather. He was a fashion student at FIT and worked part time at _Vogue_ , which Blaine was insanely jealous of. He may not have had the same drive for fashion as he did when he was in his early years of high school but he still enjoyed the magazine and told Kurt so.

“Here,” Kurt said, pulling something out of his bag. He handed it over to Blaine and Blaine’s eyes widened when he realised what Kurt was passing him. It was the upcoming issue of _Vogue_ , that wasn’t due to be released until the end of the following week.

“I can’t,” Blaine said, shaking his head, putting his hand on top of the magazine to push it back over to Kurt. 

“Yes, you can,” Kurt replied. “I’ve got, like, three copies in my bag. Keep it.”

Blaine flushed heavily and gratefully accepted the magazine. “Thank you,” he said. 

“You’re welcome,” Kurt returned, zipping up his bag again.

They slipped back into the easy conversation they had started before and Blaine found out that Kurt was from Ohio as well. They traded stories about being in their school’s glee clubs and while Kurt’s stories were a lot more colourful than Blaine’s, he still gave Blaine his full attention throughout every story Blaine told of the Dalton Academy Warblers.

Every new expression on Kurt’s face made Blaine ache with the desire to sketch him. He knew it would be inappropriate to ask but he wanted to so desperately. He wished he had his paints with him so he could recreate the colour of Kurt’s eyes on canvas so he would never forget them. That was one thing he never wanted to do – forget the gorgeous colour of Kurt’s eyes.

As the hours passed, Blaine felt himself growing tired. The train wouldn’t get into the station until late, as it was an afternoon train he had caught, but he was determined to stay awake. He didn’t want to miss a second of conversation with Kurt.

Luck, however, was not on his side and he fell asleep while talking to Kurt. Kurt had lain back a little as well and they had traded stories, their voices just above a whisper. Kurt’s eyes had looked amazing in the rapidly dimming light of the train carriage. 

Blaine hadn’t meant to fall asleep and he woke only when the train was slowing down. He had no idea how long he had been asleep for but when he opened his eyes, Kurt was gone. He felt a pang of hurt in his chest. He regretted not being awake for when Kurt left, if only to get his number so they could meet up once they were both back in New York. 

It was with a heavy heart that Blaine exited the train. Even seeing his mother’s happy face as she waited for him couldn’t put more than a momentary smile on Blaine’s face. 

The car ride home was mostly silent, Blaine claiming that he was tired. His mother, thankfully, understood and Blaine headed up to his old room the moment they got home. He quickly said good night to his parents and fell on top of his bed with a sigh.

He woke in the morning, still fully clothed, with a deep pillow crease on his left cheek. There were a few moments after Blaine had awoken that he didn’t remember Kurt or the train ride but after a few seconds of being awake, it all came flooding back to him. He sighed and hung his head, feeling sad.

Blaine knew he would have to find a way to get over it, of course. There was no point in harbouring feelings for a guy he had met by chance on the train.

A small part of him hoped that Kurt would be going back to New York at the same time as Blaine so he could find him again but he knew that was a long shot.

He had no hopes of finding Kurt – he didn’t even have a clue what Kurt’s last name was, or he could have searched for him on Facebook. Blaine wasn’t even able to find results of Kurt on Facebook when he punched in that Kurt went to school at FIT. 

Blaine went about his morning routine before joining his parents for breakfast. They both had to work that day, leaving Blaine with free reign over the house. He made a few phone calls to make plans with some of the old Warblers that were in town visiting their own families. 

It wasn’t until two days after he had got back to Ohio that Blaine noticed something at the back of his sketchbook. He opened the book and saw a gorgeously detailed drawing of himself sleeping.

He ran his fingers lightly over the pencil marks on the page, tracing over his perfectly drawn eyebrows and the way his lips had fallen apart while sleeping. 

In the bottom right hand corner, there was a little note that made Blaine’s heart skip a beat.

_You look like an angel when you sleep. –Kurt._

Blaine smiled and ran his forefinger over Kurt’s name. He was a little disappointed that Kurt hadn’t left a number for him but Blaine couldn’t be too sad, the drawing was amazing. He had no idea that Kurt was so talented. He knew that working in fashion, Kurt would have had to have had some kind of artistic ability but seeing this sketch of himself made Blaine’s heart beat hard in his chest.

He just had to find Kurt, no matter what it took.

Blaine didn’t have any luck in finding Kurt once he had got back to New York. 

He had taken to sketching Kurt at any chance he could, just so he wouldn’t forget Kurt’s face. One particular drawing that soon became Blaine’s favourite was of a small memory of Kurt, the way he had looked at Blaine, through slightly hooded eyes. The drawing had made Blaine think of waking up next to Kurt on a morning, seeing his rumpled features, his sweater falling off one shoulder slightly, revealing a pale, gorgeous shoulder. Blaine drew Kurt’s fingers on his left hand slightly touching his parted lips and Blaine fell utterly in love.

It was silly, he knew that, but it didn’t stop the feelings from being there.

He kept that drawing separate from the others. It felt far too intimate to just be sitting in his sketchbook where anyone could see it. That picture, even if it was a fantasy, was for Blaine and Blaine alone.

Even if Blaine never saw Kurt again, at least he would have his drawings.

~*~

**One Year Later**

Blaine stood as he heard the boarding call for his train. He slipped his sketchbook back into his bag and slung it over his shoulder, following the crowd of people boarding the train. 

Blaine easily located his seat, which had another empty seat next to it again, and he sat down. He pulled out his sketchbook again and his favourite pencil and started to draw, without really thinking about it. Before he knew it, the same eyes that had been haunting his dreams for the past year were sketched out onto the page. He bit back a sigh and just stared at the drawing.

After an entire year of looking for Kurt wherever he went, sometimes thinking he had seen him, only to find that it wasn’t, Blaine felt like he needed to give up on his search. New York was too big and there was no way that Blaine was ever going to find Kurt again. He had even tried _Vogue_ but had no success. They weren’t allowed to give out personal information of the staff and Blaine hadn’t wanted to push his luck with asking. 

He bought every issue but never saw Kurt’s name crop up in any of the magazines. It left Blaine severely disheartened.

Over the last few months, Blaine had begun to wonder if he had just made Kurt up in his head. 

Blaine traced his finger over the shape of the nose that he had just drawn and sighed. He closed over his sketchbook and shut his eyes tightly. It would do no good for him to get lost in the memory (real or fake) of Kurt for his entire train ride.

“Excuse me,” an angelic voice said that had Blaine snapping his eyes open the instant he heard it. “Do you mind if I sit here?”

Blaine couldn’t help the beaming smile that spread across his face as stared at the slightly amused smile on the face he had been dreaming about for the last year.

“Kurt.”

~*~*~*~

“I like that story, Grandpa,” Natalie said slowly, yawning her little head off.

“Me too,” Blaine replied. He glanced up at Kurt, who was smiling down at him.

They tucked Natalie into her bed and both kissed her on the forehead before saying good night to her.

“I like that story too,” Kurt said as they pulled the door to Natalie’s room closed. “It has such a happy ending.”

“The best,” Blaine agreed as he pulled Kurt in for a sweet kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me [on tumblr too.](http://star55.tumblr.com)


End file.
